


ICU in my Future

by wackkypackk



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Characters to be added, Kenny is just himself lol, M/M, Needles, Nurse!Craig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-01-07 04:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18403247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wackkypackk/pseuds/wackkypackk
Summary: Craig Tucker works at Hell's Pass ER and hates it with his entire being. Working a normal Friday night shift takes a turn for the strange when Kenny McCormick is admitted covered in sickly wounds from (what Craig assumes to be) a drunken brawl. Kenny is annoying and entirely too difficult for any of the other nurses on deck to work with, so Craig is stuck with him. By the end of the night, Craig is sure he never wants to see Kenny's bruised but admittedly handsome face again.Thing is, Kenny keeps getting admitted. And Craig is the only one who seems to remember him.





	1. The Patient

**Author's Note:**

> soooo this got way out of hand. its gonna be a lot longer than i had originally anticipated. i actually wanted to just make this all one chapter, but i got stuck while writing the second part and i didn't want the fic to waste away while i sit here desperately trying to figure out how to connect my main plot points and. yeah.
> 
> enjoy!

It was a busy night in the ER. Not that it was any surprise, the Hell’s Pass ER was always full at night on Fridays, full of drunks who took things a little too far, getting into fights or wrecks. Even though it was normal, Craig was still stressed out, balancing a nice patient intake of five people because several of his coworkers weren’t in tonight. He sat at his small cubicle (if it could even be called that, it was only three four foot panels around his desk, exactly how the rest of his coworkers’ desks were presented) typing up yet another patient report, making mistakes left and right because of his poorly taken notes. He wished that the hospital would get computers inside the patients’ stalls, or at least got a rolling computer so that the nurses could get vitals and put them into the computer as they were taking them. But no, South Park had a nice population of 10,000 or less, so that kind of luxury wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. 

More often than not, Craig would come home after a long night at the ER cursing himself for choosing to be a fucking nurse of all things. He could’ve had an easy nine to five job where he sat on his ass all day, but no, he just had to become a nurse, helping the injured, treating the ill. What a curse. 

While he sat there, typing angrily away at his computer, an ear-piercing scream tore through the air, causing everyone in the room to snap their head to the source of the noise, including Craig. The scream had come from one of the rooms that had only recently been filled. Craig saw a nurse dashing out from behind the curtain, and to the unit manager’s desk. Everyone had seemed to follow the nurse’s journey, but soon returned to their work. Craig huffed silently and began tapping at his keyboard once more. He really, really needed to finish this and he really, really couldn’t afford another distraction--

“Hey, Tucker.”

Goddammit.

“Yes?” 

It was the unit manager. “I need you to cover for Annie,” he said, gesturing to Annie over his shoulder. She was the one who had run out of the room screaming her head off.

Anger immediately filled Craig. “You’re serious? You have me working five other cases. I am not taking another one,” he said flatly before returning back to his computer. Some nerve…

“Fine, I’ll make Annie and Misty take some of yours, I just need you with this patient. You’re the only one who can handle him,” the manager said, his voice barely anything above deadpan. He was obviously tired. 

That immediately got Craig’s attention. He was the only one? Usually, patients hated him because of how insensitive he could be, but there was a patient who only he could take care of? Suspicious. 

Then again, he could drop a lot of his workload. “Fine. What room?”

“Room 2. He still needs his vitals, so hurry up,” the manager said before turning on his heel and heading back over to a very distraught Annie. 

Craig rolled his eyes but complied. He finished up what he was doing on his computer before picking up his clipboard and heading to the trouble patient’s room. He whipped open the privacy curtain, not bothering to give a warning, and wheeled in the vitals cart. 

“So, they send in yet another.”

Craig looked over at the infamous patient, giving him a once over. The guy was looking rough, his face all purple and blue from bruises. He was obviously in a fight, and given that it was Friday night at 2:30 in the morning, it was probably one with liquor involved. Craig groaned in his mind. He hated dealing with drunk patients. 

“Hey, cutie,” The patient greeted, flashing a toothy grin. Craig just rolled his eyes. 

“Name?” He asked, picking up his clipboard again, walking over to the light switch behind the privacy curtain, flicking all of the switches on so he could actually see what he was doing. 

“Oh damn, that’s bright!” The patient called, covering his sensitive eyes, before immediately uncovering them and looking Craig up and down. “Or is that just you?”

“Name?” Craig asked again, his voice tight with annoyance.

“Kenny McCormick, but my friends call me K-Daddy.”

What, was that supposed to make Craig swoon? Craig didn’t think he’d ever hear something so stupid come out of someone’s mouth, but he just did. The dude was definitely still lit.

“Yeah, sure,” Craig said, the disdain in his voice evident. “I just need to get your vitals so we can put you in the system. Sit up.”

“That’s what everybody has been trying to do since I got here, but they haven’t gotten as far as you,” Kenny said, doing as Craig commanded and sitting up. “I guess they can’t handle all my charm.” He tried to make it seem like he was winking with his good eye, his other one swollen shut by a rather nasty bruise. It had split across his eyebrow, butterfly bandaids holding it together. 

Craig didn’t reply as he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Kenny’s left arm, pressing the button on the screen to start pumping and clasped an oximeter to the index finger on his right hand. Craig watched the vitals screen flash the numbers, trying not to put too much attention on Kenny. Clearly, he was aiming to be as distracting as possible. The machine beeped when it was done, and Craig raised his pen to his patient sheet, ready to jot down the information. 

“Your blood pressure’s high,” Craig noted flatly. 

“That tends to happen when you’re all worked up,” Kenny replied, the playfulness in his voice never faltering. 

Craig dared to look at Kenny’s face, examining his wounds. The bruises looked like they hurt like a bitch, but Kenny was talking as if they were casually flirting at a bar. It probably wasn’t his first time getting beaten half to death.

“Did you get into a fight?” He asked before he could stop himself. 

“Heh, how could you tell?”

“Looks like you lost.”

“You should see the other guy,” Kenny replied, cliched as ever. He tried to bring his arms up behind his head to lay back against, but his body cringed so that an involuntary gasp of pain left his lips. 

“What’s wrong?” Craig immediately set his clipboard down and brought his hands to feel Kenny’s chest. “Is it your ribs?”

Kenny nodded. “Fuckers, wailing on me with a pipe… It wasn’t fair, I didn’t know we could’ve brought weapons,” Kenny gasped out, lying back against the hospital bed. “Or back up for that matter, can you believe that? He brought six of his buddies just to kill me. And I’m still alive!”

Craig raised Kenny’s shirt, not bothering to ask for permisson. “You need to stop talking.” Figures no one would check under the guy’s shirt. There were no bandages to be seen, only more sickeningly dark bruises staining pale skin. Some of his ribs had to be broken. “I think your ribs are broken. We need to get you x-rayed and bandaged. Why didn’t you say that your chest hurt?”

Kenny chuckled softly. “Y’know, when you’re in these situations, adrenaline takes control of your entire body. Then when you come back down, you can feel each and every hit, or bruise, or cut.” He groaned softly, obviously trying to hide the fact that he was in immense pain.  
Craig felt his annoyance turn into concern, watching Kenny slowly writhe in pain as he became conscious of his wounds. 

“I am also a lot less drunk,” Kenny smirked, looking back at Craig. 

“I can get you some pain killers after I take a blood sample. Hang tight,” Craig reassured, before heading out of the room to grab a bag with a vacutainer and a pee cup.

“That’d be great, thanks, angel,” Kenny cooed after him. Craig stopped himself from groaning. 

Craig came back with the baggie, a change of patient scrubs, a rib wrap, and some high dosage painkillers in a medicine cup. He set them on the counter next to the gloves boxes, before plucking a pair out and slipping them over his hands. He ripped open the baggie, taking the contents out of it and carefully setting them on the counter. He picked up a disinfectant towelette, turning towards Kenny. 

“Which arm?” He asked, knowing he wouldn’t have complied with whatever Kenny had said. 

“I’m not picky,” Kenny replied, then lifting his right arm, considering that was the one that was closer to Craig.

Craig picked up the vacutainer and vials in one hand and set them on Kenny’s bed. 

“Sit up,” He commanded, grabbing the arm Kenny had held out. Kenny did as he was told, sitting up straight while Craig tied the tourniquet around his rather meaty bicep. Craig may or may not have idled his hand on the muscle for a fraction of a second longer than he had intended. Kenny didn’t notice. He ripped the square open and rubbed the injection point down thoroughly, then disposing of the square. He uncapped the needle of the vacutainer and lined it up with one of the veins on the inside of Kenny’s arm. 

“Sharp sting,” he warned out of habit, before stabbing the needle into Kenny’s arm. He picked up one of the vials, quickly but perfectly stabbing it onto the end of the vacutainer before Kenny’s blood spilled all over the two. Craig watched the vial slowly fill up, concentrated on his work. The sound of a small chuckle interrupted his concentration.

“Hey, you can stab me in more places than that, baby,” Kenny joked, returning back to his game. 

Craig scowled, not giving Kenny the satisfaction of looking up. 

“There are more fluids you could be collecting than my blood.” Craig could hear the flirtatious wink in his voice.

“I will purposefully make your vein collapse if you don’t shut up,” Craig scolded, taking the vial off of the vacutainer, and replacing it with the second one. Kenny laughed at that, careful not to shake his arm and ruin Craig’s work. 

“You’re a riot.”

“Yeah, I’m told that so often,” Craig said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“How could anyone not find you fun? This is the most fun I’ve had in a good two hours,” Kenny said, his full attention on Craig. 

While the attention fueled Craig’s burning ego, Kenny’s staring made him uncomfortable. He shifted where he was standing, still looking down at the vial. He didn’t respond. 

After he was finished taking Kenny’s blood he placed a cotton ball over the needles injection point before removing the needle gently, securing the cotton with gauze. He slipped the vials into a small rack so that they didn’t go anywhere, and picked up the pee cup, turning his torso around to show Kenny. 

“Can you stand?”

Kenny groaned. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed opposite of Craig. He slowly rose to his feet, seemingly not too confident in his answer. Craig watched Kenny carefully, totally because he was concerned he would fall and fuck his injuries up worse and not because Kenny was absolutely ripped and his tight t-shirt didn’t hide that. Whoever picked the fight with him probably had to bring back up. There’s no way any drunk asshole could’ve taken that on. Craig forced himself to stop staring, lest he be caught, and turned back to the counter. He picked up the neatly folded scrubs, then placing the rib wrap and pee cup on top. He walked over to the sliding door, waiting for Kenny. 

Kenny nodded his head in an acknowledgment gesture. “Am I staying the night?”

“Yes. There’s no way you’re leaving here looking like that. And I’m sure the cops want to have a talk with you.” 

Kenny followed Craig out the door, and towards the ER bathroom.

“I already talked to those schmucks. Like they’d do anything anyways,” Kenny replied. Craig was a bit surprised at his sudden cynicism, but he didn’t pry.

He handed Kenny the stack of things he had carried for him. Kenny smirked, and Craig could already feel himself rolling his eyes. “I think I need help undressing, nurse.”

“I’ll only help you with your shirt and the wrap,” Craig stated firmly. He wouldn’t have even answered if Kenny’s ribs didn’t look broken in fifty different places.  
“That’s very thoughtful of you, sweetcheeks.” Kenny started to take his shirt off, and Craig immediately slapped at his hands. 

“Not out here, moron!” Craig hurried Kenny into the bathroom, closing the door for privacy. 

“Well, isn’t it just all nice and cozy in here,” Kenny stated rhetorically. He faced Craig again. “Reminds me of being trapped in a closet with my longtime crush.”

“Goddammit, this is a bathroom. I’m not going to be fucking anyone, let alone you, in a bathroom. Especially a hospital bathroom. Lift your arms as much as you can.”

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chuckled. He did as Craig said, slowly raising his hands above his head, wincing in pain yet again. Craig quickly but gently pulled Kenny’s tight shirt over his head, being mindful of the bruises. When the shirt was off… it was off. While the shirt didn’t exactly hide anything-- that didn’t mean the sight before him didn’t still pull him into a gaze like he’d never seen a hot guy in his life. Kenny was buff, like, really buff, but he wasn’t bulging. Craig was grateful for that. He had never found bulging bear-daddy types particularly attractive. Not that he was looking to buy here, just appreciating his patient’s form. Very healthy.

“Damn straight,” Kenny smirked.

“What?” Craig broke his stare, looking up at Kenny. Was he always this tall?

“I’m a healthy boy. Well, aside from being beaten so purple I look like a grape.”

“Shit.” He could not believe he said that out loud.

“It’s okay to admire, baby, most people in your place do,” Kenny joked. “Besides you’re not too shabby yourself--” Kenny flicked at Craig’s badge. “--Mr. Tucker.”

“Oh my God. Shut up.” Craig’s ears burned. He never blushed, but his ears would always go pink when he was flustered. He picked up the wrap, desperately trying to get his shit together. “Just… Turn around, please.”

“Sure, baby.” Craig’s eyes stuck to Kenny’s back, shamelessly ogling it, again. He hadn’t noticed his tattoos until now, mainly because the one on Kenny’s back was huge. The beautifully drawn angel wings spanned all the way down Kenny’s back. They were made to look like they were folded closed. Craig desperately reigned back his (usually tame) sense of self-control before he tried to touch the tattoo. Quit it, he told himself, this time certain he hadn’t stupidly blurted it out.

He ripped the velcro of the wrap apart, and carefully wrapped it around Kenny’s bruised torso. The doctor would need to request x-rays, but this should help keep Kenny together until then. He stuck the velcro together, tugging the wrap until it lay flat against the bruised torso, which made Kenny grunt.

“That fit snuggly?” Craig asked in a small voice. He didn’t mean to come off that coy, but he couldn’t help it. 

Kenny turned back around. “Snug as a bug. Thanks, hun.” Kenny had a great smile.

“Get dressed, put your clothes in that bag, and take a piss. Although, it’ll be totally useless if you were drinking,” Craig said, opening the bathroom door and stepping out. He didn’t stay to hear Kenny’s response. 

Craig hurried back to the room. He hadn’t meant to rush, but his body surged with embarrassment like he was trying to run from the hot wash of shame that fell over him. Craig tried not to dwell on his mortification, in favor of getting the blood samples to their final destination and starting his report on Kenny McCormick. He was barely getting the start of the patient symptoms down before he saw Kenny heading back to his room in his peripheral. He stood up and followed suit. 

“I got you some pain meds, as promised,” Craig said, going over to the counter again and picking up the tiny medicine cup. He turned it upside down in Kenny’s palm, then filling the cup with water in the room’s sink. By the time he handed the cup to Kenny, he had swallowed the pills dry. His eyebrow twitched slightly in annoyance before dumping the water back out and throwing the cup away. Useless.

“Thanks, honey,” Kenny said, his voice tired. 

It had probably been hours since Kenny had woken up, then the liquor and the fight; he had to have been exhausted. 

“You should sleep,” Craig suggested, walking back over to the light switches and flicking them off again. “It’ll probably be a few hours before the doctor will come and see you.”

Kenny hummed, laying fully back on the bed. “You should come and join me. But be warned: I’m a cuddler.”

Craig just flipped him off and closed the curtain.


	2. The Body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been trying to finish this part for like. a month lol. and it came out to be 6k words. yeah im not proofreading that lol (im really sorry about that haha) ((i dont have any beta readers Dx))

The rest of the night passed by without incident. Well, as far as the ER was concerned, at least. Craig had a lot less trouble dealing with Kenny now that he was passed out every time he entered. The man clearly had spent every last ounce of his energy scaring off all of the other nurses, keeping up his flirtatious act. The x-rays showed that Kenny had far less broken ribs than the bruises on his chest suggested; he only had three ruptured ribs. The doctor just said to keep taking pain meds and keep it wrapped up. 

 

By the time Craig’s shift had ended, Kenny still hadn’t been released, but he didn’t feel like sticking around until he was. What purpose would that serve, anyway? Craig was tired. Especially so from all of the talking and retorts he had to throw at Kenny to keep him entertained. All he wanted to do was go back to his small apartment, feed his guinea pigs, and sleep. 

 

Unfortunately, he’d been caught by two of his friends on the walk from the parking lot to his apartment building. They invited (forced) Craig to come to get breakfast with them.

 

“It’s been a while,” Token mused, pouring sugar into his coffee.

 

“It’s been three days,” Craig replied curtly. He drank his coffee black. “I could be home, sleeping after a shitty night at work, but you two want to have a little pow-wow at Denny’s at 7 in the morning. Because you missed me.”

 

“Friends are allowed to miss friends, Craig!” Clyde defended, dumping his sixth cup of cream into his coffee. “Just because you hate us and never want to hang out anymore doesn’t mean we feel the same.”

 

“You’re right. I totally hate you right now. Because I worked all night in the ER and I haven't been home in over 12 hours. I haven’t even changed out of my scrubs--”

 

“Okay, okay, give it a rest,” Token sighed, though he wasn’t dejected at all. He was well used to Craig’s moodiness by now. “How was the ER? I’d ask if it was busy, but it was Friday night.”

 

“Yeah, it was a total clusterfuck in there. I had to juggle six patients, each and every one of them needier than they actually had any right to be.” Craig took a drink of his coffee again, barely feeling its heat. “God, and then there was this one patient who acted like we were having some kind of blind date. So annoying.”

 

“Look at you, Craig, gettin’ some action while performing acts of heroism. If that isn’t sexy, then I don’t know what is,” Clyde praised, all matter-of-factly. Token snatched a cream up out of his hand before he could drink it straight from the cup. “What’d he look like?”

 

“Oh, now you start assuming it's a guy, huh? When did you start doing that, the eleven hundredth time I told you I was gay?” Craig was just being an asshole now, trying to make his friends feel as annoyed as he did.

 

Clyde rolled his eyes. “Okay, then what did  _ she _ look like?”

 

“Unfortunately for you, it was a dude.”

 

Clyde groaned in frustration, rubbing his eyes harshly. “Dude, Craig, my man, please quit your shit. I’m rocking a mighty hangover and I don’t need to be dealing with your passive aggressive bullshit this early in the morning.”

 

“Right, so that’s why you--”

 

“Back to the point: What’d he look like?” Token asserted, playing mediator.

 

“Rough. He came in beaten to the pulp. Bruises and shit everywhere, even had broken ribs,” Craig informed, yawning behind a fist. “He was pretty hot, though. Ripped, confident, blonde--”

 

“You and your blondes,” Clyde noted, smirking. 

 

“I could say the same to you,  _ Clyde _ ,” Craig defended. “He said like six guys ganged up on him. Drunk fight probably. I’m kind of surprised he lived.”

 

“Oh, what a coincidence! We also saw a drunk fight last night,” Clyde said excitedly. “It was pretty wicked, actually. This dude saw another guy putting some roofies in this girl’s drink and he called it out. They started tumbling and the bartender told them to take it outside, and like, five other people stood up and followed them out. Who would’ve thought that there would be two fights, on the same night, that involved one guy getting jumped by a shit load of other guys and--”

 

“Oh my God. That was him. That was Kenny,” Craig said, half shocked that his friends had  _ witnessed _ the incident, half irritated at Clyde’s blatant ignorance. 

 

“Kenny? That was his name?” Token asked.

 

Craig nodded his head.

 

“Damn, that dude’s a hero,” Clyde declared. “Shit could’ve gotten out of hand with that girl.”

 

Token nodded in agreement, sipping his coffee with an elegant sort of air about him. “Seems like a guy who would get into a lot of trouble,” He commented after a few breaths of silence. 

 

Craig nodded his head, looking out the window their booth sat next to.

 

“Hopefully he never ends up in my side of the ER again. I can’t deal with that shit.” Another yawn threatened to sound, but Craig swallowed it down. “Is that all you wanted? Ask me how my shitty hospital job was going? Because I seriously doubt that either of you care that much about my life as a Grey’s Anatomy character.”

 

“Wow, that hurts,” Clyde stated, deadpanned. “We do care about your ER melodrama. But we were also wondering if you wanted to go clubbin’ the next time you were off. It’ll be like old times! Us--” Clyde wrapped his arm around Token’s shoulders to emphasize, “--Tweek ‘n’ Jim, maybe some ladies,” Clyde wiggled his eyebrows at that.

 

Craig just rolled his eyes. “I would rather be at home, watching TV, and wasting my young life away than seeing you fail to pick up on chicks who are way out of your league,” He retorted, taking another sip of his coffee. “Besides, aren’t we a little old to be going ‘clubbing’?”

 

“We’re 27, Craig! That’s the age you’re  _ supposed _ to be going clubbing at!” Clyde was successfully annoyed now. “ _ You’re _ the one who’s too young to be acting like a jobless 60 year old man who stays home and watching TV all day! That’s it. I give up.”

 

Clyde dramatically turned out towards their window, scowling into the distance. Craig just snickered. 

 

Token gave another exasperated sigh, before asking, “Just think about it? We’d really like to see you around again. We all know you don’t have anything else you could be doing.”

 

Craig tried to stifle whatever talk back he had planned. He’d given Token and Clyde enough shit for now. Although he  _ really  _ didn’t want to go out to the bars like they were in college again, he still found himself saying, “Yeah, yeah, sure. I’m free next Saturday.”

 

Clyde snapped his head back towards Craig, his face beaming. “Awesome! I knew you’d come around!”

 

When Craig finally got home, he had immediately passed out after he fed his guinea pigs, not even bothering to take off his scrubs. He awoke with a heavy head, and unable to recognize reality. He looked around his neat and minimalistic room slowly, trying to remember that he was a living being. He didn’t get up right away, because there was nothing to get up for. He had lied when he said next Saturday was his next day off. He actually had a lot of the weekends off, unless if he was on call. But Craig cherished his alone time, even if at times it was suffocating and he wished desperately that he had more company than his TV and his rodents sometimes. He wouldn’t admit that, though. 

 

He got up, going to his small bathroom, and turned on the water. He usually washed after he came back from the hospital (who knew what he had picked up while he was surrounded by sick people), but this time he had been particularly tired. His entire body ached, and all he wanted to do was relax in the comfort of his own home. 

 

As he scrubbed his body, thoughts of last night’s shift bubbled back in his mind. Kenny’s strong personality (and body) danced back around in Craig’s mind. He couldn’t help but think about the strange man, Kenny had definitely left his mark. Especially since Craig found out his act of heroism. Kenny must’ve been a good guy. 

 

Craig frowned at his own thoughts.Why did that matter? It wasn’t like Craig was every going to see the guy again. Tons of hot dudes came in and out of the ER for various reasons, and Craig never remembered their names, or their hair colour, or their height and weight, or their--

Craig groaned, his voice echoing in the shower stall. He finished rinsing himself off, and stepped out of the shower. Was Craig really that lonely? Did he suddenly become obsessed with a patient he knew he’d never see again because he was horny? Annoyed at himself, Craig got dressed in pajamas, not planning to leave his apartment at all for the rest of the day.

 

It wasn’t like he didn’t get any “action”... it had just been a little bit. Even longer since he had dated someone; it had been maybe two years since he was romantically involved with someone. He didn’t like to think about it, falling into a steady stream of monotony. Just how he liked it. 

 

At least that’s what he told himself. 

 

Before he even realized what he was doing, Craig found him in the middle of typing Kenny’s name on the search bar on Facebook. Okay, what the fuck. Craig quickly deleted Kenny’s name, shut his phone off and threw it on his bed. He ran his hands through his still damp hair, then tugging softly. 

 

He looked back over to his phone.

 

Well, who would it really hurt?

 

_ You, because you’re acting like a fucking sex-crazed stalker. _

 

He didn’t listen to himself, picking back up his phone and opening up Facebook once again. His thumb hovered over the search bar, a second of hesitance, before he started typing Kenny’s name fully. The icon of the first result, Craig recognized Kenny’s face. Even if the first time he had met Kenny, his face was swollen and bruised, he still recognized the bright blue eyes and messy golden hair. Craig took a shallow breath before tapping on the icon, opening up Kenny’s profile. 

 

He couldn’t see much, considering they weren’t friends, but from what he did see the guy was popular. Every other photo that Craig had access to were a few years old, but they were taken with different people in different places--mostly bars, Craig noticed. It wasn’t particularly unusual, considering most people in their age group perused bars and nightclubs. 

 

While there were lots of people that Kenny had been pictured with, there were three people who stood out in more of the pictures than anyone else. There was a man with dark hair and big, blue eyes and another man with ca messy, curly mop of red hair that Craig recognized as Kyle Broflovski, an attorney that had his face plastered on a billboard just outside of the only supermarket in South Park advertising his services. Then there was a younger girl, who looked a lot like Kenny, and Craig supposed it was Kenny’s sister. There were a lot of pictures with his sister, just the two of them on the beach or camping, or at backyard parties. He obviously got along with his sister, if that’s who the girl was; something that Craig couldn’t relate to. Even just thinking of Tricia--or any of his immediate family members, for that matter--caused a spike of annoyance to go off. 

 

Shooing away unpleasant thoughts of his family members, Craig tapped on another one of Kenny’s photos: one of Kenny on the beach. Seeing him shirtless again, Craig noticed the other tattoos that adorned Kenny’s arms and chest. He wasn’t completely inked up, but it was still enough to give a sort of “bad boy” vibe. Craig snorted at the thought. 

 

He didn’t realize how long he was staring at Kenny’s pictures before his phone rang. The sudden sound startled Craig, and he accidentally answered without checking who was even calling. 

 

“Hello?” Craig hated how his voice wavered, like he’d been caught doing something wrong.

 

“Hey, Tucker, we need you down here, again.” It was the unit manager.

 

“Hey, I thought I had today off,” Craig snapped.

 

“Yeah, but you’re still on call, now get down here, Craig. I’m not going to ask again,” his manager said, his voice tight with annoyance. He hung up. 

 

Craig groaned. He had just woken up and he was already being called back in to work his ass off. He just  _ had  _ to be a nurse.

 

When he got to the hospital, it was as busy as ever, much to Craig’s displeasure. He had barely slipped through the ER doors when his boss was on his ass. 

 

“I need you to deal with this patient. Nobody else can get him to cooperate,” the manager pleaded, dragging Craig to one of the patient rooms. 

 

“God, I guess I’m just the almighty ‘troubled patient tamer,’ huh?” Craig quipped. “What are you guys going to do when my moody, indifferent ass is gone and can’t take care of the patients you personally don’t like?”

 

“What are you talking about? Look, I just need you to work on this one case, and then you can go home when he’s discharged. Just this one thing.” The manager stopped in front of one of the rooms, and ripped the curtain open. 

 

It was Kenny.

 

“Well, hey there, cutie,” Kenny smirked, looking over Craig. “Send in another one of your beautifuls to take care of me, huh?”

 

“What are you doing back here, Kenny?” Craig demanded, ignoring his antics. 

 

“What’re you talking about?” Kenny chuckled, before he doubled over in pain. 

 

“What happened?” Craig questioned, rushing over to Kenny, leaning him back and pressing softly into his stomach. Kenny gasped, and grabbed Craig’s prodding hand, holding them away form his stomach. 

 

“Stop poking it, it hurts like a motherfucker,” Kenny informed, before lifting his shirt to reveal more bruises than he had the night before. Kenny grinned at that, though Craig couldn’t possibly understand why. 

 

Craig pressed his fingers gently into Kenny’s ribs area. The bruises that once lined the man’s chest now seemed to be fully healed, much to Craig’s confusion. How could they have healed overnight? And now that Craig was looking, Kenny’s face wasn’t swollen and purple like it was when they first met. None of this set easy with Craig, but he had to keep his head focused on Kenny’s current state.

 

“What else is hurt?” 

 

Kenny, instead of answering with words, turned his head far to the side, revealing a horrendous gash at the back of his skull. The wound didn’t seem new, per say, as it wasn’t bleeding profusely, but it was still bad. The blood caked Kenny’s hair, staining the golden locks a dark and gritty, almost black, red. Craig couldn’t help the small gasp that left his lips. 

 

“What the fuck, Kenny?” Craig’s mind was racing. “How are you not dead?”

 

“Oh, honey, I don’t just look it, I  _ wish _ it,” Kenny joked grimly. “Damn, that shit hurts. Do you got any of those opioids?”

 

Craig restrained a groan, instead turning on his heel to hurry and get all of the things he needed to doctor the wound.

 

When Kenny’s head was clean and hair no longer matted to his skull, Craig examined the wound. It didn’t look nearly as wicked as it had all covered in it’s own blood. It seemed as though Kenny had been hit with something blunt, because the skin was red and split, just as Kenny’s eye had been the night before. It would probably need stitches, but for now Craig just wrapped a bandage around Kenny’s head to protect the wound, saving it for the doctor.

 

“What did you get hit with?” 

 

“Oh-ho, sharp one, we have here. Some fucker came up behind me on my way to the club and took a bat to the head. I think. I dunno, I’m rocking a concussion right now, forgive me, sweetie,” Kenny rambled, going to scratch the bandage immediately as Craig had put it on. Craig just slapped his wandering hand. 

 

“More of your ‘friends’?” Craig pulled up a stool, sitting beside Kenny, his clipboard in hand.

 

“Oh, you remember that?” Kenny asked, his voice suddenly small. He didn’t let Craig answer. “Naw, at least I don’t think so. It was just the one guy. He only got this many hits in because he played dirty and cracked me over the back of my head with a  _ bat _ . I could’ve totally taken him down otherwise.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Craig acknowledged, rich with sarcasm. “I’m certain that was the case.”

 

“Hey, dude, if you remember me from last night then you know damn well I can take on six whole people!”

 

“What do you mean ‘if I remember’?” Craig asked, looking up at Kenny. “Look, not to stroke your massive ego or anything, but you’re kind of hard to forget.”

 

Kenny didn’t say anything at first, his expression shifting between shock, worry, and a hint of relief. 

“I could say the same about you, Tucker.” His voice came out quiet and raspy, and Craig figured exhaustion was seeping in. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Craig mumbled back, dropping his eyes back to Kenny’s patient sheet. He wasn’t expecting him to use his name. 

 

The rest of the night went on without much incident (at least as far as Kenny was concerned), and this time Craig saw Kenny through his discharge (totally because his boss specifically told him to and not because he wanted to be there). Craig was worried at first that Kenny was going to try and drive himself home, which was impossible for him given his current state, but eventually a man in a white Subaru-type vehicle pulled up in the patient pick up. He practically ran into the hospital, searching fervently for Kenny. 

 

“Ken!” the man cried when he finally spotted the blonde. 

 

“Oh, my ride’s here,” Kenny whispered to Craig, winking. “Hey, Leo!”

 

Kenny got up to meet this Leo halfway, but the other jogged over, beating him to the punch. 

 

“Why didn’t you call me when you got here, Ken? You can’t just spend the night at the hospital and not tell anybody!” Leo questioned, placing his hands on Kenny’s shoulders, concern all over his face, in his voice, his being. 

 

Kenny just chuckled, drawing Leo into a hug, being mindful of the bruises on his middle. “Sorry, I wanted it to be a surprise.”

 

“This sure is a sore surprise!”

 

Craig felt like he was out of place and lingering too long, watching the two hug and Leo dot over Kenny’s injuries like a mother who just saw her child fall off their bike, so he got up from his stool beside the patient bed, trying to sneak through the door. 

 

“Tucker.” Kenny caught him.

 

“I have a first name, too,” Craig said dully, turning around to Kenny, who was trying to look at him around Leo’s rather large build. 

 

“Craig,” Kenny tried again, his voice soft. 

 

“What?” Craig swallowed the spit that seemed to be collecting in the back of his throat. He hated that.

 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Kenny said, that shit-eating (absolutely stunning) grin back on his face. 

 

Craig found himself stuck, stupidly, in the doorway before Leo turned around, stepping to the side of Kenny. 

 

“Oh, yeah! It sure is nice of you, being a nurse and all,” Leo said, bringing his hands together, bumping his fists together; a nervous tick. “Ken seems to get himself into a lot a trouble. I hope he isn’t a pain!”

 

“Why, Leo, I am an angel! I would never put dear, sweet, caring Craig through any trouble,” Kenny defended, his smile never letting him. He had his arm wrapped around Leo’s chubby middle. 

 

Craig snorted. “That’s a damn lie. The only reason I am here is because you’re too much of a fuck for the other nurses to deal with.”

 

Kenny let out a loud laugh, while Leo just knit his eyebrows together in a look of concern.

 

“Gee, I’m awful sorry about that, Craig! He’s just trying to be fun,” Leo apologized for Kenny. 

 

Craig waved it off. “Gives my monotonous life as a nurse some purpose, I guess.”

 

He then walked off, not wanting to stay and see the two off. 

 

Craig had lasted about two whole days without looking at Kenny’s Facebook profile. He tried, he really did. But it was like an itch that would never go away, his eyes constantly on his phone, it calling him in a sort of silent siren trance. Craig wanted to tell himself that he’d never see Kenny again but his gut vehemently rejected the thought, instead entertaining the idea that Kenny would be back--sooner or later. Craig just hoped that when he and Kenny met again, it wouldn’t be at the ER. It wasn’t the most romantic of places.

 

But for now, Craig lay on his bed in complete silence, tapping through Kenny’s profile once again. Now that he’s seen the guy, Craig instantly recognized Leo. He was a robust man, very tall and sported a nice dad bod, features that didn’t fit his soft angelic face very well. But he had this endearing quality about him. The farther Craig went down, he noticed Leo getting much skinnier and smaller as time metaphorically regressed, like the guy had suddenly transformed into the beast he is nowadays.

 

Who was he? How were he and Kenny related? Craig didn’t want to think they were involved romantically, it made his stomach twist. 

 

_ Why? You freak, there’s literally no reason you need to feel jealous.  _

 

Nevertheless, Craig tapped on Leo’s Facebook profile, seeing that he was tagged in the photos of him on Kenny’s page. Funny enough, Leo’s page wasn’t even named “Leo”, instead he went by Butters. Craig frowned at the nickname, because what the fuck kind of nickname is that? But sure enough, it was Butters, in all his soft, rotund glory. Craig searched around for Kenny in the guy’s albums, but surprisingly only found one, which was a picture of Kenny holding a baby, looking down at it affectionately. Craig felt a lump form in his throat, and he desperately willed it away. 

 

Were they married? Did they have a kid? Why is Kenny at the hospital so much? That can’t be good for a family. What the fuck is Kenny doing flirting about and in the hospital if he has a husband and a child? Who the fuck--

 

Oh. Craig tapped on a picture of Leo outside, in a white suit, and holding hands with a woman who was very obviously his bride. Craig let out a shaky sigh through his nose. Why was he so tense? 

 

He didn’t dwell on it long, in favor of casting his phone aside and walking around his small apartment. He fed his guinea pigs, watered his plants, checked the refrigerator, making a mental shopping list of what he needed, and other mundane and meaningless tasks to keep himself busy. Until he found himself on his bed once more, letting out a soft huff of defeat. This is why he took night shifts, so he could sleep all day and bypass the constant reminder how dull his downtime was. 

 

He checked his phone, nothing. Well, except for messages from Clyde, sharing dumb things he found on the internet, or other things that begged for Craig’s attention. Craig couldn’t muster the social energy to reply to Clyde. 

 

He glanced at the time his phone displayed. Would it really hurt to go into work early? Possibly, possibly not. Craig didn’t care either way, wanting to get away from his prison of dull, boring regularity. He slipped into his scrubs. 

 

When he checked into Hell’s Pass ER, it was surprisingly hectic for a Wednesday afternoon. Not paying too much mind to the rush of the other nurses darting around the work floor, Craig situated his stuff at his tiny work area, and headed over to the unit manager on duty to inform them that he was in early. As he approached, he noticed the rather large gathering of nurses peering into the second treatment room, murmurs blossoming all around the crowd. He held his gaze until he made it to the manager’s desk, looking down at her quizzically. 

 

“What’s going on?” he asked, discreetly looking at the files on her desk to see if there were any clues.

 

“DOA. No one can identify the body,” she said, not an ounce of emotion in her voice. She was obviously tired. 

 

“Oh, shit,” he reacted, blandly. He snapped his attention back up to the crowd, some of the nurses reluctantly stalking off to go attend to their own assigned patients. “What happened?”

 

“Don’t know,” she turned to look at Craig, her eye bags dark and puffy, like she had been up for a good 27 hours. “But he’s been rotting for so long his clothes were melded in with the wounds. Pretty gnarly, should go check it out.”

 

Craig frowned at her, but did as she said and went to go join the crowd. He struggled to look past the other workers (were there usually this many damn workers on the day shift?) but when he saw it, man did he see it. It made his stomach turn, but it wasn’t just the injuries that did so. 

 

Craig immediately recognized the body. 

 

“What the fuck!” He shouted, not at all caring for the others respectful murmurs. He pushed past the nurses rudely, trying to make his way into the room and see if it was actually Kenny in there. He violently slid open the door, not paying mind to the officers’ and lead physician’s shouts of warning. 

 

Craig stared wide-eyed at the deceased body. It was not a pretty sight, and if Craig were a lesser man, he would have undoubtedly thrown up at the stench alone. He felt his body run cold, panic slowly taking over his entire being. He ran up beside the bed, pushing past the medical examiner, trying to make sure what he was seeing was real. 

 

“How do you assholes keep forgetting who this is?” Craig asked, near shouting.

 

“You know who this is?” One of the officers questioned slowly. 

 

“Kenny McCormick! He’s been in here  _ two times _ in the past week!” Craig resisted the urge to pull Kenny’s pale and lifeless face towards his own. 

 

What the fuck. 

 

“What’s your relationship with him?” 

“I have been his fucking nurse every time he’s come in,” Craig stated, losing grip on his tone, his panic flooding through him. 

 

_ What the fuck. _

 

“Sir, I need you to step out of the room, please,” another officer said, grabbing gingerly at Craig’s arm. 

 

Craig immediately ripped it away, slowly backing away from the table himself. The officer’s hands were on him once more, this time more forceful. He led Craig out of the room, Craig having to force himself to break eye contact. The officer led him back to his desk, carefully making him sit down in the chair. Craig stared at the floor aimlessly, completely in shock. 

 

He felt like he was going to vomit. 

 

“How do you know him?” the officer asked again. 

 

“What,” Craig said, though not entirely meant for the officer. He was definitely going to vomit. 

 

“How do you-” 

 

Craig quickly grabbed at his pathetic little desk trash can that had a random shopping bag as the trash bag, stuffing his face in is to let the bile have a safe place to land. He hacked and retched violently, it making his eyes tear up when he came back up for air. 

 

“Shit,” the officer muttered, exasperated.  

 

For a while, the officer sat there with Craig, questioning him about Kenny, trying to get a scope on their previously dubbed John Doe. Craig couldn’t really give pertinent information, mostly spending the entire interview cradling the now vomit stinking trash can. The officer deduced as much, and eventually abandoned Craig to go back to the room and report to the other officer. 

 

Craig eventually managed to get a grip and stand up. He was definitely not going to be working tonight. 

 

When Craig managed to get back to his apartment, he sat down on his bed, staring into the nothing, trying to will away the image of Kenny’s rotted corpse from his mind. 

 

What happened? Kenny had made it obvious that he managed to find trouble no matter where he turned, but Craig never thought that he would get himself killed eventually. What did he do to deserve death? Craig felt his stomach churn with nausea once more, so he tried not to think about it. He tore his gaze away from the wall he had been lost staring at, looking down at his work sneakers. Slowly, he bent down to untie and slip them off, pushing them underneath his bed and out of the way. He wanted to sleep and force himself to stop thinking about Kenny. He grabbed the melatonin from its place in the kitchen cabinet dedicated to Craig’s medications, took a few tablets, and slipped back into bed, not taking his scrubs off. Soon enough, Craig drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

 

He had woken up late into the morning, his room bright with the morning sun. His head felt heavy and he could barely manage to open his eyes, much how he usually felt when he took sleeping pills. He wished he had forgotten about Kenny for a little bit longer, but it was the first thing on his now conscious mind. Screwing his eyes shut and rubbing his face, Craig tried to wake himself up fully, but his mind still felt clouded and drowsy from the medication. He searched for his phone, hoping to use it as an excuse to stay awake. When he found it, he ignored his friend’s messages, instead opening the chat he had with his manager, shooting off an apology message for missing work and why. 

 

_ What are you talking about? There were no DOAs on the report sheet when I got there. I don’t mind that you missed last night, but you have to come in tonight. _

 

Craig scowled at the message. What is with these people? He can understand them missing Kenny when he was alive--it happened all the time-- but how could they forget a patient arriving  _ dead _ ? This was getting absolutely ridiculous, and he told the manager as such. When he got a simple “whatever” he scoffed dramatically, and closing the messages app, opening up Facebook. He scrolled through the feed of pictures and posts his friends had shared, but not actually intaking any of it. He felt clouded over again. Well, until he saw Leo’s profile picture show up in the suggested friends section. He felt his stomach pang with guilt, and he wondered again if anyone had told Leo the news. He contemplated for a good minute if he should be the one to break it or not. He really didn’t want to talk about it, but he still wanted to give Leo his condolences. 

 

He tapped on Leo’s profile and tapped on the ‘message’ option. 

 

_ Hello, Leo. This is Craig Tucker, the nurse from the hospital who has been taking care of Kenny.  _

He decided to play it safe and be as vague as possible. 

 

_ I just wanted to say that I am sorry about your loss. I feel terrible about the entire situation, and I hope for the best.  _

 

He quickly closed out of the chat, and turned off his phone, casting it aside on his bed somewhere. He felt panic course through his body once again, his chest tightening making it seem hard to breathe. He forced himself to take deep breaths, closing his eyes and try to ground himself. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know the guy that well, he could move on. 

 

His phone vibrated, and he immediately grabbed for it. 

 

> _ Oh, hello there, Craig! It’s nice to hear from you. Kenny (and I) really appreciate all that you have done for him! I’m awful sorry he has been a pain in the butt, that’s just Kenny being Kenny, haha.  _

 

_ >But I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about? You make it sound like someone died, haha, but I don’t know if I know anyone who has. It would be real bad if that were the case, haha… _

 

“Fuck,” Craig muttered. So he  _ would _ have to be the one to break the news. Fucking useless cops, useless hospital; why couldn’t they just look up Kenny’s file and call his emergency contacts? He’s had to have filled out those damn papers at least three times now. 

 

He took a deep breath. He wanted to back out now, and hopefully someone else could deliver the bad news and Craig would no longer have to explain himself, but he knew better. The wasn’t the kind of situation he could be careless with. 

 

_ I’m sorry that I have to tell you this, but Kenny was admitted to the ER again last night, but when he arrived he was dead. There was nothing we could do.  _

 

_ >Excuse me? I appreciate the concern, but Kenny isn’t dead! _

 

What the fuck. 

 

_ What. I saw his body. He’s dead. _

 

_ >Um, he is at breakfast with us right now! I think you may have the wrong person there Craig. _

 

Craig starred at the message until his phone shut off. Why was everyone refusing the idea that Kenny was dead? Or that he even existed at all? Craig knew what he saw. He saw Kenny, dead, on a hospital gurney, rotted and bloodied. There’s no way he could be imagining that, he definitely was  _ not _ that kind of person. The exact opposite, actually. So with everybody telling him otherwise, he started to get angry. 

 

And in that fit of anger, he opened his phone once again and typed  _ Prove it.  _

 

He felt satisfied, setting his phone on the bed once more, getting up and walking to his small bathroom to use it. After he finished, washed his hands and dried them, he looked up at his reflection for the first time in what felt like ages. 

 

Craig didn’t look any different than he usually did: short hair left unkempt, heavy dark circles under his cold eyes, his beard area greying with a 5 o’clock shadow, asking to be shaven. Soon after getting his job at the ER, Craig learned not to put too much effort into his looks anymore, unless if it was for an event and it was certain he wouldn’t be called in for work. 

 

But, he definitely didn’t look like someone who could just imagine another person’s existence and unfortunate death. He saw his face shift to fit the anger that bubbled within him once more, causing him to groan. He shut off the bathroom light and go back to his bedroom to check his phone. 

 

Leo had sent him a photo which made Craig’s stomach do a somersault. The picture showed Kenny, very much alive and healthy, sitting across from the photographer in a restaurant booth next to a young child. He looked like he was sword fighting his silverware with the kid’s own. It should’ve just been a sweet picture and make Craig smile, but instead he felt like puking again. He felt ice cold under his skin, a shiver running up his back as if in response to the feeling. 

 

It couldn’t be. 

 

Then another message:  _ Kenny says you should come join us for breakfast! We’re at Denny’s.  _

 

Craig was still in shock. He most definitely didn’t want to go to fucking  _ Denny’s. _

 

But he had to know for sure. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denny's is where secrets are shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is getting longer than i expected, so im just gonna mark the chapter amount to "?????? idfk el oh el"
> 
> anyways, hope you enjoy. (i wrote this months ago and i cant be bothered to read over it. it was supposed to be longer, but i just dont have the energy right now, forgive me)

Craig hated Denny’s.

 

Denny’s was not a restaurant that you go to at 10 am on a Thursday morning with your family for a nice breakfast; it was where you ended up at 3 am on a Sunday, drunk and barely able to walk. 

 

Nonetheless, he pushed through the doors of the recently added Denny’s, immediately peering into each of the dining rooms, searching for Leo or… Kenny. His eyes fell on a duo of blonde hair-- one a neatly trimmed towhead, and the other a messy mop of gold, undeniably the one that donned the corpse Craig had seen last night. Craig felt his heart beat pick up; something he didn’t think possible, as it had been racing the entire drive to this godforsaken restaurant. 

 

“Can I help you, sir?” The worker’s voice pierced through the tension Craig suddenly found himself drowning in, immediately snapping his head towards the girl behind the cashier counter. 

 

He swallowed. “No, I’m joining someone.”

 

He saw her flash him a smile, before he turned his head back to the two blonds and their family. Leo was sitting next to his wife Craig had seen in the wedding photo on Facebook, Kenny on the other side of the booth with presumably their child. Kenny was absolutely enamored in whatever the kid was saying, responding back just as enthusiastically. Craig would’ve found it cute, if the fury of seeing this dead man walking wasn’t currently consuming his entire being. 

Craig made his way towards the group cautiously, his heartbeat thumping his entire body. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hands clammy with the fear that consumed him. It sort of felt like when you see something you’re not supposed to see; it was like Craig was seeing a ghost. Which, in all intents and purposes, he totally was seeing a ghost. 

 

What the fuck. 

 

Leo caught his eye, his smile getting impossibly bigger, and called out “Craig! Come on over, buddy!”

 

The entire table suddenly turned towards Craig, shocking him in his place halfway across the dining room. Even Kenny, the final step to turning Craig into a metaphorical statue. His entire body iced over, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, and his stomach lurching with something that could only be defined as dread. 

 

But Craig kept making his way towards the table, trying to keep his cool. The table still held its playful energy with Leo, his wife, and his kid, but there was a notable shift in Kenny. Craig made no effort to appear friendly as he approached the family, instead just quietly taking a chair from a vacant neighboring table and sitting himself down at the end of the booth. He tried not to look at Kenny, absolutely terrified at what he might see.

 

But it was the entire reason he had come.

 

He attempted a look towards Kenny, but was again being addressed by Leo. Leo reached over his wife, patting Craig on the shoulder. 

 

“Good morning, Craig!” Leo greeted, cheerily. Craig didn’t return the optimism. “It’s sure cool that Kenny invited you, he’s said lots of good things about you!”

 

Craig would’ve responded with something quick and witty at the expense of Kenny, but he could only feel nauseous at the idea of Kenny talking. He finally turned towards Kenny, finally laying his eyes on the man that was rotting in the hospital a mere 16 hours ago. Craig tried not to make any incriminating expression as he shamelessly looked over Kenny’s handsome face. It was all the same. The same squared jaw, same flush of freckles, same soft blue eyes that the man in the hospital had last night. Another chill ran up Craig’s spine when Kenny made eye contact with him, his mouth pulling into another one of his stunning smiles. But it was one that was hiding pain, or fear. And Craig didn’t return it. 

 

“This is my wife, Heidi,” Leo spoke up again, obviously not taking note of the mood that settled over Craig and Kenny, instead wrapping an arm around his wife lovingly. Heidi smiled at Craig shyly, offering a gentle wave. “And that’s our son, Wilbur!” 

 

The aforementioned child sat up on his knees at his dad addressing him, reaching out his hand to Craig to shake, nearly knocking over his orange juice, causing his mother to call out in dismay. 

 

“Will! Sit down,” Heidi scolded, reaching to pull the cup away from her child. 

 

Wilbur ignored Heidi, shaking his hand at Craig expectantly. “Shake!”

 

This was definitely too much to deal with at 10 am on a Thursday. 

 

Still, he gingerly grasped the child’s hand and shook it. Will seemed satisfied with that and plopped back down into the seat, pulling back his juice with a scowl at his mother. Craig let his hands fall back into his lap, his gaze following them. He felt himself zoning out, trying to wrap his brain around what the hell was going on. 

 

Was he crazy? He had to be. It was the only logical explanation; Craig had done a triple backflip off the deep end. He didn’t feel any different, he still perceived the world the same as he always had; what happened? His life had never been anything more than typical-- totally predictable and a smooth ride. He had never expected it to be anything but. 

 

Yet here he was, sitting in a Denny’s, having breakfast with a guy who he had seen die in all its gorey details and only Craig could remember it. 

 

Craig was ripped out of his thoughts as he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. He snapped his head to examine the intruding hand, learning that it belonged to Kenny. He immediately twisted his body away, his fear reinstated itself. Kenny’s cheery facade faltered for but a second. 

 

“Do you want some coffee?” Kenny asked, his tone more gentle than Craig had ever heard from the man. 

 

Craig blinked at Kenny, before nodding sheepishly, not taking his eyes off of him. Kenny called over the waitress and requested Craig’s coffee, spitting something flirty at the waitress that caused her to giggle, but Craig didn’t catch it. 

 

Thankfully, the others were already well along in their breakfast, so Craig didn’t have to stay friendly with Leo and his family for much longer. He only came here for Kenny, not to make BFFs. Thankfully, as the others ate and he sipped his coffee, the more Kenny spoke and laughed, Craig felt his intestines slowly untangle from the knot they had been in since last night. Perhaps he did just dream the entire incident after all. 

 

But Craig never dreamed. And when he did, it was never that vivid. Seeing as he simply couldn’t work out a logical solution for whatever the fuck was going on in his life currently, Craig just tried to chill out. At least, until he and Kenny spoke. 

 

Which, is where they were headed to now. Leo’s family had begun to file out, saying their goodbyes to Kenny and Craig, and walking to the front to pay out. Silence fell upon the two, and it wasn’t a comfortable one; it was awkward and stuffy, and Craig felt the anxiety creeping back, eating at his heart. 

 

“Sit across from me,” Kenny said, gently breaking the silence. Craig didn’t respond, just rising from his chair, and scooting into the booth across from Kenny. He was forced to look at him now. The fear was back and fiercer than before. Kenny’s smile didn’t comfort Craig, not one bit. 

 

His nerves were fried, totally charred. “What the fuck happened?”

 

Might as well get this started. 

 

“Craig--”

 

“Don’t tell me that you don’t know what I’m talking about, because I’m almost certain that you do, dude. And don’t tell me that I’m crazy, because I’ve already considered that.”

 

“Okay--”

 

“Something fucked up is going on and you know exactly what it is. Ever since you showed up in  _ my _ ER, everyone’s been acting absolutely insane, and it’s starting to make  _ me _ feel insane. I don’t go insane. I’m the levelheaded one.”

 

“Dude--”

 

“So what is going on, Kenny? Because you’ve been to the hospital  _ three times _ , and that’s just the amount of times I’ve been there. Do you know how often  _ normal _ people end up at the ER? At least once a year. Once a fucking year. You--”

 

“ _ Craig, _ ” Kenny stated firmly, reaching over to grip Craig’s shoulder, effectively knocking Craig out of his mindless spiel. 

 

Craig took one, shaky breath. “Yeah?”

Kenny retracted his hand, sitting back into his seat. His expression was something unlike the playful one he usually sported; his face read worry, or apprehension. Craig didn’t feel reassured in the least. 

 

“You need to explain what’s going on right now.”

 

Kenny leaned onto the table again, letting out a sigh, avoiding Craig’s eyes. “It’s a lot, dude.”

 

“I think I’m way past giving a fuck if it’s ‘a lot’ or not.”

 

Kenny forced out a chuckle, rubbing his face. “I’m not used to people remembering.”

 

“Stop being cryptic.”

 

“Okay, okay,” Kenny started. He finally looked up at Craig’s face, making direct eye contact. Craig felt his entire body ice over. “But you gotta just bear with me, I know I’m going to sound absolutely insane.”

 

“Just--”

 

“I can’t die.”

 

Oh. 

 

“Well, more specifically I can’t stay dead. I can definitely die, and it fuckng sucks, too.”

 

Craig didn’t know what to say. 

 

“Like last night in the ER? I was out there rotting for  _ hours _ . Complete agony. Not the worst death I’ve had, but it still hurt like a mother fucker.”

 

Craig looked down at his hands. “...Wow.”

 

“I know, I know. Totally unbelievable, but c’mon, Craig… Is there really a logical explanation to you seeing me dead an’ stinkin’ on a hospital gurney then the next morning having breakfast with me, in perfect condition?”

 

Craig felt himself zoning out again, his eyes locking on his ratty old work sneakers. 

 

“Don’t just stare off like that, dude, it’s freaky. I know it’s a lot to take in but…” Kenny trailed off, probably not knowing how to comfort Craig. “But… this is really cool. Like really,  _ really _ cool. I’ve gone all my life dying and dying and dying and nobody believes me. Even if someone saw me flayed and stuffed like a fuckin’ taxidermy project, they would have no memory of it the next morning.

 

“But you… Craig, you remember. You’re one of only two people who remember… The other guy is an asshole, though, so you’re obviously the one I prefer,” Kenny said, his smirk ever-present in his tone. “Oh, what a lonely life I’ve lived, waiting for you to find your way into my life, Craig… I’ve been needing you dearly.” Kenny’s voice was high-pitched, in a mock-princess type of accent. 

 

It didn’t make Craig laugh. He looked up at Kenny. “I…”

 

Kenny’s face immediately soured. “Please don’t tell me you don’t believe, dude. You’ve already gotten my hopes up.”

 

“No, I just… This is a lot.”

 

Kenny reached over to touch Craig’s shoulder again, and this time Craig didn’t feel himself jolt. Slowly, Kenny coaxed Craig into bringing his arm up onto the table, moving his hand to squeeze Craig’s own. “I know.”

 

“I just… Weird shit never happens to me. I’m just a normal guy, but this shit is really throwing me through a loop.”

 

Kenny smirked. “Welcome to Kenneth McCormick’s Wacky Ride.”

 

“I want off.”

 

Kenny chuckled-- genuinely this time. “No you don’t.”

 

Craig smiled. “What gives you the right to come and fuck up the endless stream of monotony that is my life, Mr. McCormick?”

 

“Figured you needed a little more excitement, Tucker.”

 

Craig relaxed the more they talked, and he was happy with this. He didn’t feel insane, and the more Kenny talked and joked with him, the more he felt his sanity returning. Kenny had him smiling and laughing harder than he had in a long time, and as cheesy and pathetic as that was, Craig couldn’t find it in him to care. 


End file.
